The Same Old Songs We Used to Love
by mortuaryangel
Summary: Christine Daae is a bookish, introverted high school graduate living in a small town in the Midwest. She has no life outside of school and home, where she takes care of her paraplegic father and tries to fend off the advances of the rich guy down the road
1. Chapter 1

The Same Old Songs We Used to Love

By: mortuaryangel

Christine Daae is a bookish, introverted high school graduate living in a small town in the Midwest. She has no life outside of school and home, where she takes care of her paraplegic father and tries to fend off the advances of the rich guy down the road, Raoul Changy. She thinks her life is boring, until a reclusive playwright moves into town and opens a music store, hiring Christine as a manager over the summer. E/C pairing.

Disclaimer: I don't claim any of the familiar people/places/things as mine. I do, however, own all original material.

IMPORTANT NOTE REGARDING THE STORY

Sad to say, this story won't receive much attention over the summer, as I'm leaving next week for work (I'm a camp counselor). Then, once the camp season ends in mid-August, I have 2 weeks to myself at home, and then I leave for university. So, I'm sad to say, that there won't be any real progress until sometime in September. But that shouldn't stop you from reviewing! But don't flame me. Flame, and I shall char marshmallows and do other pyromaniacal things.


	2. The Job Hunt

Chapter 1

**The Job Hunt**

Two figures sat in silence, oblivious to the noises around them in the busy café, studying the classified ads in the local paper intently. The miniscule print used for the ads began to blur together before the girls' eyes as each small block of text began to look the same.

"Find anything good?" Meg Giry, a young, athletic blonde, questioned her companion.

"No." Christine Daae, a brunette who looked to be about Meg's age, replied. "Just a bunch of construction work way out of town. We're never going to find jobs at this rate."

"Well, keep looking." Meg encouraged, as a hassled waitress passed them by. "Even working for my mom would be better than nothing."

"Except I can't dance." Christine pointed out. "Remember when I tried out for the dance team freshman year?"

Meg winced at the memory; Christine landing flat on her ass as she tried the complicated moves Meg accomplished with fluidity. "Isn't the library hiring?" She encouraged. Christine was the biggest reader she knew. It was rare to see her without some kind of book in tow.

"Yeah, but Elisa Jammes works there, and she told me the pay was crap."

"Compared to what?" Meg wondered, barely hiding her disgust for Elisa Jammes. It was well known that Meg hated her back in high school. And if Elisa's attempt at pushing Meg into the swimming pool fully clothed at their all-night party was any indication, the feeling was mutual on the other side.

"Compared to McDonalds or that new Chinese food place." Christine said flatly. She stretched and drained her water glass, nearly choking on a piece of ice. "Well, I say that this job hunt's a bust for today."

"So we live jobless, only to hunt another day?"

"Precisely!" Christine said, throwing money onto the table for her toast. "Besides, I have to get back to my dad. He's not doing too well right now."

"Ah." Meg chipped in her part of the bill. "So, one year in a few weeks." She shook her head, closing her eyes. "I still can't imagine how you do it. You lost your mom and your dad settled into that deep depression, especially after he found out he was paralyzed."

"I don't know." Christine shrugged. "Strength of character, perhaps?" The car accident that tore her family apart was something she didn't want to talk about, especially so close to the day it happened. "Let's go. Maybe we'll see something on the walk home." Humming quietly to herself as Meg paid the bill, she saw paper covering the windows of one of the old shops in town.

"That was a bit more than I expected." Meg said, disgusted with the price of the bill and the lack of green bills in her wallet.

"Meg, look." Christine pointed out the front windows, showing the covered display windows.

"Hmm, 'coming soon, Music of the Night'." Meg read, squinting at the black marks on the deep crimson paper. "We should totally go over and ask when interviews are!"

'_I guess that solves our little unemployment dilemma.'_ Christine thought wryly as Meg dragged her across the street.

"HELLOOOO! IS ANYBODY HOME?" Meg cried, pounding furiously on the old, ebony door, determined to get an interview in. There was a loud crash, followed by a string of muffled cursing, before the doorknob began to rattle. "I think I made a mistake." Meg muttered, suddenly rethinking her decision. "Uh, Chrissy, I just remembered that my mom wants me down at the studio in, like, five minutes. Bye!"

The door opened, and an ominous looking man with a white porcelain mask covering the right side of his face peered out, ready to yell at whoever disturbed him.

"Uhh, hi!" Christine said meekly. "I was just wondering, if it's not too much to ask, when the interviews for this place are."

If there was one thing the man was expecting, it wasn't that. He sputtered for a second or two, trying to calm himself down. "Interviews are from eleven in the morning until four-thirty in the afternoon on June 15th." He said.

Christine couldn't help but inwardly squeal at the sound of his voice, it was like dark, silky velvet; deceptively smooth with a bit of a rough edge that only velvet could attain. "T-thank you." She stammered.

"Is that all?" He asked, confused with the timid young girl. She couldn't possibly have nearly pounded his door in, causing him to drop a very fragile, very heavy, and very expensive tuba.

"Yes, sir." She said, turning to leave. "And I'm sorry if my friend disturbed you. She sometimes forgets to think."

"I gathered as much." He smirked. "I shall see you on Friday."

"Okay." She said, watching him go back inside, disappointment rising up inside her. The unmasked side of his face was rather nice looking. But before her mind could stray on the masked man any longer, her watch beeped, reminding her that she needed to be at home. Cursing, Christine ran down the street, back to her house.

**So, what do you think? Good? Bad? Review so I know!**


	3. Home Life

Chapter 2

**Home Life**

"Daddy, I'm home!" Christine called out as she entered her house.

"Little Lottie." He called out, wheeling himself into the kitchen. She stooped down to hug him and proceeded to begin dinner. "How was your day, princess?"

"I have a job interview lined up for Friday." She said, unable to contain her glee.

"Really?" He said in amazement. "Where?"

"At Music of the Night. It's a news music shop that's going to open in a couple of weeks." Christine grinned, pulling out the whole-grain pancake mix she made. "Is this okay for dinner?"

"Sure, princess." Jonathon Daae watched his daughter move gracefully through the kitchen, a pang of sadness growing in his chest. June 21 was fast approaching; the day he lost his wife and the use of his legs because of a drunk driver. He had prayed to whomever would listen to lessen the pain. But with Christine around, he knew he had to hold on, even if she did look like his dear Gina brought back to life. "When is this interview again?" He asked, trying to take his mind off the coming event.

"Friday, from eleven in the morning to four-thirty in the afternoon." She stated, flipping over a batch of pancakes gracefully.

"I think I have an appointment with Dr. Thomas that day around eleven."

"Then I'll try and go a little later in the day." She reasoned. "You need to go to physical therapy."

"Princess, if this interview means so much to you, I'll have Anne Giry take me." He said, steering himself over to the table to put the placemats down. "I want you to go to that interview."

"Really?" Christine's eyes lit up, the same way his wife's did when he did something she particularly liked. _'I can't wait to tell Meg!'_ She thought, serving up dinner.

Dinner was a quiet affair, until Jonathon spoke up about the 21st. "Christine, about next week," He began.

"What about it?" She asked around a mouthful of pancake.

"What should we do on… that day?"

Christine sighed. _'Of all the things he could have brought up.'_ She thought resentfully.

"I think cleaning off her grave and giving her flowers is good." He plowed on, ignoring Christine's silence. "Would you mind picking up some flowers the day before on your wan home from work?"

"Sure." She mumbled. Anything to please him, she kept telling herself.

Her thoughts drifted after dinner: about work, about her father, about that day. Strange, it didn't hurt as badly when she called it that. _'Then again,'_ She reasoned, _'I guess that's the reasoning behind the whole Voldemort/He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named in _Harry Potter. _It's easier not to refer to the thing that causes me pain than deal with the pain it brings.'_ She grinned wryly as she shoved plates into the dishwasher and started it up.

**

* * *

Yeah, I'm leaving it there and this was an incredibly short chapter, but the next one will be long. I promise. And I made Christine a _Harry Potter_ ****fan. Anyway, review to let me know how I'm doing. I like to hear from you guys! And thanks to my one reviewer last time.**


	4. The Interview

Chapter 3

**The Interview**

The rest of Christine's week passed quickly as all of her being was looking forward to this interview. Friday finally arrived, prompting her to wake up early. She received interview tips from her father as she cooked breakfast ("Don't forget to shake your prospective future boss' hand before and after the meeting!"), fashion tips from Meg as the girls raided Christine's tiny closet ("Honestly, Chris! Is there _anything_ you own that isn't a baggy tee and jeans!"), and last minute body language tips from Mrs. Giry ("Don't sit there with your legs and arms crossed. It makes you look unreceptive to their offer and, overall, uninterested in working there.").

"You look cute!" Meg insisted as Christine attempted to smooth nonexistent wrinkles from her pinstripe skirt and while blouse. "But I wish you had let me do more with your hair." Christine had insisted on pinning her hair into a half tail with a jeweled hair clip.

"I feel overdressed compared to you." Christine admitted, picking at her nails nervously. Meg had chosen khaki capris and a light pink blouse, her hair pulled into a severe ballerina's bun. She looked perfect, in Christine's opinion. They entered the dusty, run down, little shop, with its still-papered windows, only to be greeted by a tall, dark man.

"Good morning, ladies." He said in a deep, calming voice. "My name is Nadir Khan. If you will give me your names, I will call you when Mr. Foster is ready to see you." Both girls gave their names to Nadir, who walked off into a back room of the store.

"What do you think?" Meg asked her friend, who was eyeing a box of sheet music and scorebooks like a kid in a candy store.

"I would be in heaven if I wind up getting the job." Christine breathed, reaching for a particularly thick libretto. "If I don't, you know I'll be in here every day, if only to read this." She held up the libretto to _Faust_. "This is my favorite play, you know."

Before Meg had a chance to reply, Nadir called her name. She gulped and walked to the back room. A boy from their graduating class, who seemed fairly familiar to Christine, walked out, grinning widely.

"Hey, Christine!" He greeted her, giddy with excitement. "It's Kevin Doone, from Home-Ec." He made a face, which immediately jogged her memory.

"Kevin, you were the one who nearly blew up the kitchen with your antics." She laughed. "I didn't know that you plan to work here too."

"Yeah." He said, his smile broadening. "Mr. Foster hired me right on the spot. He said he needed someone with a good guitar background."

"That's wonderful." She returned his grin. "Would you mind joining Meg and me for lunch once we're done? It's a celebration lunch, and I know Meg has this huge crush on you. It'll be fun!"

"Sure!" He said enthusiastically. To pass time, he began telling her everything he knew about guitars, which began to bore her to tears.

"Christine Daae!" Nadir called out. She almost leapt up and hugged him. Meg gave her a thumbs up as she passed.

"I'm in." She said excitedly.

"Kevin Doone's joining us for lunch." Christine whispered quickly.

"Okay." Meg whispered back. "Good luck, Chris. Not that you need it."

Taking a deep breath to calm herself, Christine entered the small white room and closed the door behind her.

"Good morning." A familiar voice whispered sensually, or was it her imagination telling her it was sensual?

"Good morning." Christine echoed, staring into the same green eyes that she saw four days ago. The man took her outstretched hand and shook it firmly.

"I am Erik Foster, the owner of Music of the Night." He introduced himself eloquently. "So, Miss Daae, you are interested in being one of my employees?"

"Yes sir." She said, wringing her hands slightly. "I was thinking of something flexible, since I have my father to take care of."

"What kind of musical background do you have?" His emerald eyes bored into her, searing her with their intensity.

"Well," She gulped, involuntarily trembling, "my father was a concert violinist and a songwriter. My mother was an opera singer. They both trained me in classical and operatic music." If there was anything Christine Daae hated above everything else, it was talking about herself. "I would be perfect if you were looking for someone who knew opera. Or I could give violin or piano lessons to kids. Anything would work for me."

Erik leaned back into his chair, taking care in analyzing Miss Daae. She appeared to have the qualities he wanted for a part-time manager. A little on the meek side, perhaps, but she had the potential. "Well, Miss Daae," He began, "I was thinking of hiring you as a manager, to keep an eye on the shop when I'm not here."

"R-really?" Christine stammered, flattered that he'd offer her such a high-up position with little experience on her part. "Why?"

"You were raised by a concert violinist and an opera star." He said. "You have a high appreciation of music and knowledge suitable for a manager. You also strike me as a responsible adult." He gazed at her, appraising her value. "How does three hundred and fifty dollars a week sound?"

Christine's jaw dropped as she struggled to find words to accept such a generous offer. Unable to form words properly, she simply nodded her approval, a wide smile growing across her face.

"Very well." Erik said, unable to suppress his own smile. "We start working two days from now preparing the shop for its grand opening. We will work together on it, and hopefully, we should finish up before the June 30th opening." They went through the appropriate paperwork, Erik having to show Christine how to fill out the tax forms, an she signed her contract. Slipping the paperwork into a beige folder, he handed it to her. "Give this to Nadir on your way out." He said standing, prompting her to do the same. "Welcome to Music of the Night, Miss Daae. I trust you will make a fine manager." He shook her hand.

"Thank you, Mr. Foster." She said, beaming happily. She flitted past Meg and Kevin, who were engrossed in some kind of debate, and walked all the way home in a happy stupor. "Hello, daddy!" She cried, pirouetting in the middle of the hall.

"How did your interview go, Princess?" He asked as he wheeled himself over to her side.

"Daddy, you are looking at Christine Daae, lead manager of Music of the Night!" She cried, jumping up and down, laughing. "I work six days a week and make three hundred and fifty dollars a week! Isn't it wonderful?"

"Yes it is, Princess." He said, reaching upward to hug her. Together, they made their way into the kitchen, laughing as they made lunch and enjoyed the day together

**Sorry this one was so short. I'll try and make it up to you next time, with some more Erik and Christine goodness. Again, please leave a note and tell me how I'm doing! And bonus points go to whoever can point out which POTO movie I got Erik's last name from.**


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